


YURRPP

by starksnack



Series: Snapshot [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Domestic, Established Relationship, Inspired by Music, M/M, Married Couple, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Steve Rogers-centric, Stony - Freeform, The Avengers (2012) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 16:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/pseuds/starksnack
Summary: Steve just knows Tony requested this song. The wink only confirms it.





	YURRPP

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first post on here so let’s hope for the best.  
> Special thanks to @/jamesbarnesstan on Instagram for being an awesome and encouraging beta reader.  
> This is totally spoiler free for everything because my ass is still stuck in 2012.  
> Inspired by the song YURRP by Reaper Tear$ and an amazing Instagram edit by @/srsly.steverogers with that song.  
> This can be read as a standalone

_“My man’s eighty years old”_

Steve’s head shot up to look at Tony who was dancing to what could barely pass as a song with his head thrown back and his hands flying around in the air.

The genius had his back half turned and Steve just knew he had the innocent face painted on as he shook his ass as if his life depended on it.

Steve couldn’t help a quick glance at his perfect behind. He would definitely come back for that later. At the moment he was focusing on staying seated at the bar. Falling off a bar stool would definitely be bad for the Captain America image.

_“He got that yurrpp in the bank”_

Tony had fully turned around now continuing his erratic dance and jerking his hips in random directions. He was leaning against Clint who was doing more than just pelvic thrusting against an unamused Phil.

Steve was happy Tony had ditched the sports jacket. He had his sleeves rolled up to expose wiry forearms from years of shop work. Steve was trying very hard not to drool.

_“I told him I want that Louis”_

There was some awkward fist pumping and Tony was balancing on one leg as he gyrated. Steve wasn’t sure that the human body was capable of that range of motion.

The DJ had been taking requests and Steve just knew that this one was all Tony. After all, he was the same person who consistently called Steve a senior citizen, dinosaur or fossil. Sometimes all three in the same breath.

_“Hop on his face and I plank”_

There it was, the inevitable wink in his direction confirming that the song was Tony’s pick. The smirk in his direction was fleeting and if Steve hadn’t been openly gaping at his husband he would have missed it. He shook his head standing up from the bar stool and tipping the bartender a twenty as he grabbed a glass of water for Tony.

He smiled at Phil and Clint who nodded in acknowledgement before making themselves scarce.

With Clint gone, Tony leaned heavily against Steve who was working hard to make sure the water didn’t end up all over both of them as Tony continued to dance.

Steve handed the smaller man the water watching as he tossed it back like a shot before handing the glass off to a passing waiter.

“Hey there handsome,” Tony almost purred, pressing himself up against Steve as the song continued to play in the background. He looked up into Steve’s darling blue eyes and fluttered his lashes, “it’s going to take a lot more than a drink to get me to sleep with you.”

Steve laughed, his arms winding around the brunet’s waist, as they both danced a little crazier together. “How about…” Steve paused dramatically, his mouth hovering next to Tony’s ears listening to his soft exhales,”two drinks?”

It was Tony’s turn to laugh as he allowed himself to be led back to the bar for a virgin mojito. “Now we’re talking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate you guys.  
> Drop me a comment and let me know how I can do better.


End file.
